


In Trouble

by Aithilin, Wind_Ryder



Series: Something New [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bigotry & Prejudice, Child/Parent Arguments, Insecurity, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 14:45:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1652441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wind_Ryder/pseuds/Wind_Ryder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re not my father! You can’t tell me what to do!” </p><p>Daniel knows Victor isn't his genetic father, and when Victor gives him a consequence - he doesn't want to listen. Sherlock and Lestrade try to pick up the pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Trouble

“You’re not my father! You can’t tell me what to do!” It was like a bomb went off. The moment the words left Daniel’s mouth, time froze for everyone except for him. He turned and stomped back to his room- slamming the door shut, and his parents were trapped in a horrible tableau of shock and amazement.

 

Victor’s chest hurt. It hurt as though he was being burned alive, and when someone tried to put him out he instead drowned on the water they gave as a balm. He could feel the tight muscle of his heart squeezing down more and more, sparking pain through his blood stream.

 

“Daniel!” Lestrade roared, breaking free of the tableau so he could chase down his son. He slammed his fist onto the door, each pound going unanswered. “Daniel you come out here right now and apologize this instant!”

 

“I have to go.” Victor breathed the words out, shaking himself from his revere. Sherlock reached a hand towards him.

 

“Stop, don’t-” Victor pulled away sharply and flew down the stairs and out the door before Lestrade could cut him off.

 

“Stay.” Lestrade commanded, looking at Sherlock pointedly. Sherlock ignored him.

 

“ _You_ stay.”

 

“Sherlock-”

 

“If you make me stay with our son right now, I will tell him _exactly_ what I think.” Lestrade hesitated. “And besides. He doesn’t want _you_ right now.” It hurt more than Sherlock likely intended, but Sherlock didn’t have time to argue with the man on this. He snatched his and Victor’s coats from the rack by the door and rushed outside.

 

Victor could run fast, but Sherlock had made a living of chasing after people. He had an idea of where Victor would go too. It wasn’t hard to find a better route. Sherlock’s long legs and insistent arms pumped backwards and forwards as fast as he could until he caught sight of his bondmate, husband, partner, _friend_.

 

Victor had stumbled to a stop by a great tree near their favorite park. One hand reached out to steady himself on the bark, the other pressed to his face like he was trying to keep from throwing up. Sherlock rushed towards him, reaching out and snatching his arm before he could try to pull away.

 

He turned and tugged, until he was gripping Victor as hard as he possibly could. “Mine.” Sherlock swore, letting his fingers dig into the back of Victor’s neck- right over his bond mark. “You’re _mine_ , do you understand? You don’t get to run away. Not now. Not after all of this.”

 

“Will-”

 

“He’s a _child_. He’s a child who’s lashing out and acting like a fool because he’s angry and upset that he’s being given consequences. He thinks he’ll get his way, and he’s wrong. He’s very wrong. He’ll not going to that bloody concert for the rest of his life. I’ll burn every one of those CDs, confiscate his computer, and make him hand write his homework for a year after this. Maybe longer.”

 

“Cruel.” Victor breathed out, pressing his nose to Sherlock’s throat and pulling his partner’s scent into his body.

 

“Yes. Yes it was. What he said to you was _very_ cruel.” Sherlock insisted, purposefully misinterpreting what Victor intended. “You’re his father, Victor. You’re his father in every way that matters. _You are his father_. You were there when he was born. You scented him at the same time as Lestrade, you marked him as _yours._ ”

 

“He-”

 

“-is your son.” Sherlock insisted. “He’s yours. He’s your son. Please, I need you to understand that. I need you to- _I need you to understand_.”  Guilt, ten years old, bubbled up. It had been years since he thought about that first night Victor realized that Sherlock was pregnant. The mistake he had made in not including Victor in that decision, taking for granted how Victor would never deny him something he wanted, haunted him the same now as it did then.

 

Violet had been different. Lestrade had been there the whole time, encouraging Victor, praising Sherlock, telling them over and over how beautiful and special and whole they were. And when finally Victor came and Sherlock gasped as he became fully aware that he was pregnant once more, it had been rewarded with breathless laughs and words of heartfelt declared love. It had been _perfect_. And Lestrade had never once seemed uncertain around Violet the way that Victor sometimes seemed around Daniel.

 

Victor should always have been there for Daniel’s conception. It had been such a mistake to try to surprise him. Such a terrible, awful, brutal mistake.

 

“I know he’s my son.” Victor swore as he gripped Sherlock tight to him. “I know he’s my son. You’re mine. Lestrade is mine. My family. Mine.”

 

“Yours. Always.” Sherlock never excelled at providing good emotional stability for Victor. Lestrade usually managed that just fine. But this needed to be said. This had to be said. There was absolutely nothing that could convince Sherlock that he needed to be anywhere except for right here.

 

Though when he finally did go home, Victor at his side, Daniel had better be on his _knees_ begging for forgiveness. Sherlock didn’t suffer fools lightly, and he’d never thought until that moment that he had given birth to one. Clearly, he was wrong.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

As Sherlock talked Victor down, Lestrade finally managed to throw Daniel’s door open and finish the conversation they’d been having before Daniel decided to attack Victor in retaliation. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

 

“What’s the matter with _me?_ What’s the matter with _him?_ Why is he even here?! He’s not my father!” Daniel shouted.

 

“Yes he is.” Lestrade told his son firmly. “He is your father.”

 

“No he’s not! Only one of you could have gotten Mum pregnant, and it certainly wasn’t _him!_ ”

 

“Why are you against him? What could he possibly have done to make you this upset at him? _Him_ of all people?”

 

“You’re joking right?” Daniel hissed as he glared up at his father. “He is the most overbearing, rule driven, _freak-_ ”

 

“Daniel!” Lestrade shouted, cutting his son off sharply. “You will never utter that word in this house towards _anyone_. Am I understood?” 

 

“I don’t get what’s wrong with you.” Daniel hissed. “Isn’t Mum enough for you?”

 

“I love your mother, Daniel. But we both love Victor too. What about your siblings? Hm? Am I not their father because it wasn’t my specific genetic material that conceived them?”

 

“His _Bond Mark_ is barely even there! He’s not a real member of our family! He’s-”

 

“He’s your father.”

 

“No he’s not! He’s not my father!” Lestrade may not be as observant as Sherlock, but even he couldn’t have missed the strained hysteria his son was portraying. This wasn’t the result of a few enforced rules. Just the week before Victor and Daniel had come back from a trip to Norfolk, smiling and laughing about whatever mischief they’d gotten up to. It was part of the reason Victor took this so hard, he had been blindsided by the attack.

 

“Someone at school giving you a hard time?” Lestrade hazarded. He struck the nail on the head as Daniel’s fists clenched tightly at his sides.

 

“They call you two ‘poofs’,’ you know that?” He asked, trembling with rage. “Say you’re unfit.”

 

“Who does? Your peers?”

 

“My peers, the upperclassmen- even the bloody _staff.”_

“Your _teachers_ told you this?” He could understand students, but the faculty took it that extra step farther. It struck with the same chord of discontent that came about whenever politics got in the way. When one of them wasn’t allowed in a hospital room, when mail came addressed to only one and not other, when they received filthy looks from uninspired adults who thought they were perverts. It was one thing to talk to _them_ about it. It was quite another to talk to Daniel about it.

 

“Just overheard it.” Daniel muttered. “They’re not trying to be subtle ‘bout it. Hear it all the time. They’re going to take us away. Make an injunction.”

 

“They wouldn’t dare.” Lestrade swore. “Your Uncle would flay them alive.”

 

“Won’t help much though in the meantime will it? It still matters. Still last in everything, still the one with the _freak_ parents. Why can’t it just be you and Mum?” He was shaking now, tears pressing to his eyes. Lestrade felt his fury towards Daniel start to fade, replaced with a different kind of loathing that was targeted to people nameless and not there. He took a few steps forwards and tugged his son to his chest.

 

“You don’t really want your father to leave.” Lestrade said, more confidently than he had all morning. He stroked Daniel’s slightly curly hair, closing his eyes as he tried to swallow the nausea that had risen up his throat. Daniel had taken the lesser of two evils: he lost one parent instead of all of them. If he pushed Victor away, maybe he’d still be able to stay at home. He never should have been in the position to start with. “Victor loves you.”

 

“I don’t want you to go.” Daniel countered, crying now as he clung to the back of Lestrade’s shirt.

 

“You won’t.” Lestrade swore. “You won’t. You won’t go back to that school if that’s what they’re saying, and they will be dealt with. You are loved. You are _very_ loved, Danny. Victor is your father, and the three of us are your parents. There is nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. Do you understand?”

 

“It’s not how it’s supposed to be. Alpha and Alpha…It’s wrong.” Daniel murmured. “Not right.”

 

“Why isn’t it right, Danny? What’s wrong with it?”

 

“You’re-you’re not meant to be together. It’s sick. Sick!” Daniel pulled away, swiping violently at his eyes as they leaked more tears.

 

“No, Danny. It’s not sick. You’re wrong.”

 

“I'm not wrong.” Daniel insisted, hiccoughing as he took another step away.

 

“Why?” Lestrade asked. He lowered himself so he was at his son’s eye level. “Why is the fact I love your father wrong?”

 

“Because he’s an Alpha!” Lestrade nodded.

 

“If Sherlock was a woman, would it change anything?” Daniel’s mouth opened in confusion, brows furrowing.

 

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

 

“What if Sherlock was a foreigner? Had dark skin? Was crippled? Would it change how you felt about him?” Daniel’s eyes fluttered as his brain struggled to work out the hypothetical scenario. He shook his head.

 

“That stuff doesn’t matter. I don’t know-”

 

“Then why should _this_ matter?”

 

“He’s an Alpha.”

 

“Yes. And aside from that, how would you describe him?” Lestrade asked.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“He’s intelligent. Yeah? You’d call him intelligent?”

 

“I guess…”

 

“He’s kind too, hm? Out-going? Attentive?”

 

“I don’t understand what-”

 

“He’s funny. He’s resourceful. He’s _gorgeous-_ ”

 

“ _Dad!_ ” Daniel flushed, but the tears had stopped as he stared up at him.

 

“Why is it okay that Sherlock can be with Victor, but I can’t? Why is it okay that Sherlock can love Victor, cherish him, call him his husband, but I can’t? Why can’t I go to see him when he’s in hospital, without flashing my badge or Mycroft’s assistance? Why is our genetic material responsible for forbidding us from being able to love each other? Love- an emotional concept that is completely separated from our biology. Why can Sherlock, an Omega, love Victor, but it’s _wrong_ for us to love ach other?” Daniel’s mouth opened and closed uncertainly. He didn’t understand. Lestrade sighed and stood up. “Victor’s not leaving. He’s not going anywhere. He’s your father. You _will_ listen to him, no matter what. If you don’t, you will have consequences. That’s non-negotiable.” He turned and walked towards the door. “We never raised you to be a bigot, Danny. I’m disappointed in you.”

 

Daniel opened his mouth to reply, but Lestrade wasn’t interested in listening. He stepped out, closed the door behind him, and walked away.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Victor and Sherlock came back when it was well after dark. As soon as Victor stepped through the door, Lestrade yanked him forwards and crushed him to his chest. “Mine.” Lestrade whispered in ear.

 

“Yes.” Victor replied, pressing his face against Lestrade’s neck.

 

“You’re not going to leave.”

 

“No.” Victor agreed. “How’s Danny?” On command, their son’s door opened and Daniel stepped out.

 

“Papa…” Victor stepped away from Lestrade and sank to his knees. He opened his arms wide, and Daniel ran to his embrace. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

 

“It’s okay. It’s okay, love. It’s okay.” Victor replied rubbing his back. Sherlock hovered not far away, hands clenched at his sides. He was still shaking with anger, but it wasn’t going to help things now. Lestrade reached for him, and guided him to their bedroom.

 

“Let them talk.” He whispered softly to his husband.

 

“I don’t want him to hurt him.” Sherlock replied shortly.

 

“They need to work it out themselves. Victor’s not going to leave, and Daniel knows where we stand on this.” Sherlock twisted to get one last look at them.

 

“Sherlock.” Lestrade insisted. Sherlock hesitated just long enough for Victor to nod to him. Then, nodding back, Sherlock turned away.

 

It would be difficult, but they’d get through this. They were already starting.  


End file.
